Traumatic Amnesia
by turningthepaige
Summary: Nicole and John experience a car crash, resulting to head trauma. She wakes up in a Nevada hospital, unaware of her surroundings, and forgotten everything. When her boyfriend's name, John Cena, is mentioned - she has no idea who that is. She's faced with a problem - Seth Rollins tries to make her remember the love she had for him, whilst her love for John was fading. NETH BELLINS.
1. Chapter 1 - Fugue

"Do you think he crashed the car on purpose?"

"Of course not, besides what be his motives?" someone replied, in hushed tones as if they didn't want to disturb the peace.

The voices were hazy, faint, but I could just about make use of what they were saying. It was hard to tell the voices they belonged too, I had not the slightest of ideas to who these people were. Every time I felt a connection to the murmurs, I was instantly shot down by the thumping that was coming from inside my head – my sister would probably say it's because my brain isn't devoured in wine for once. Quite right, annoyingly so.

"She's been missing since Friday, aren't you worried?" said another, the voice was loud and clear, in which I could recognise even if my hearing was near-scratched completely. It was Brie.

"Of course we're worried, but she's been found now. There is no need to call Seth."

"John's already on his way, there will be no speaking of this when he arrives..." Brie said, in a rather forceful tone.

_Seth? Whose that? _I thought. Possibly a friend?

Suddenly, I feel my eyes flickering. My body coming alive as all the nerves have woken up the stillness in my muscles.

"Nikki?" questions Brie, as she comes rushing to my bed side. As my eyes widen, and my blurry pupils begin to come into focus; like adjusting a pair of spectacles when trying to look closer into the distance. Only difference is Brie's already up close and personal. "Can you hear me," she panics.

"What day is it?" That's all I could manage to say. I look around, the space is filled with bodies hovering around me, like a swarm of flies around a lump of gone-off meat. Many faces that I recognise from work; Dean Ambrose, Paige, Heath Slater, Nattie, Ari, and lastly Brie, with few doctors standing at the door frame watching over me.

"It's 31st of July," answered Heath. _31__st__ July? How long have I been here?_ I thought. I didn't even have to think about who it was, or even look. His deep West Virginian accent spoke out to me. Heath Slater.

"So it's not Friday?" I questioned. They all look at me, confused. I'm clearly not getting what they all know.

"Boo boo, it's Saturday..." called out Arianne. Saturday?

"But, yesterday we were celebrating Naomi's Birthday?" I say with a slight ounce of question to my voice.

"Look at the board in front of you, the date, it's Saturday," says Ambrose, he's right. The white board in front of me with all the patients names from my ward sit underneath it. Concern filters through each and every one of them, have I had a concussion?

"I'm so confused," I say in pain, as I lift my right arm up slowly, placing my right hand over my eyes. The throbbing in my head increases as I try to gather my thoughts all at once to sort them into some kind of order, trying to find the solution of my question of – what's happened?

As I'm laying there, hiding my eyes from the beam of light that escapes through the blinds; I can hear a discussion happening before me.

"Get her some water," requests Brie to Slater.

"I'll get Doctor James," announces Arianne. "Find out whether they have more news on her results yet!"

Results?

"Stop!" Without realising, I'm shouting out for a halt. Too much is happening around me, and it's driving me insane. That's probably the results they are all desperately in need of. My sanity is definitely intact to some degree, and I don't need a piece of paper to tell me otherwise."Just sit, don't move," I say, and everyone does as I instruct. Just the silence I needed to enter the room, finally some piece. I can think.

"Sorry, Nicole." A couple of them quietly mutter.

"What were these results you speak of?" I finally ask the question that's been bothering my brain, hopefully some answers will straighten out the banging in the left side of my temple.

"You were tested, Doctor James wanted to assess you as you took quite the fall," Natalya chimed in. "We're just waiting for them now."

"What fall?" I ask.

"Well, we don't know that for sure," Dean admits.

"Dean!" Health calls, then does some gestures to warn him off the subject. I just raise my eyebrow at them both, hoping that it will budge them to spit it out. Heath exhales, "Go on," he gestures a hand – allowing Dean to continue. Whilst everyone bows their end in silence, not making eye contact. Dean, for once, looks around the room for clarification before he speaks. But I become impatient.

"So?"

"Nicole," he begins. "The reason why we don't know is because that's what John says what happened."

John? I heard that name before, I know Dean as Jon, but nobody except the Uso's call him that. John Morrison? But he was released years ago, and I haven't spoken to him since. JBL? I work with him, who knows. It's impossible to tell.

"Who is John?" Then shock faces surround me, "What?"

"Please tell me you're joking around..." says Arianne, in a worrying tone. I just stare at her, frowning at her, confused. That's when her eyes nearly pop out of their sockets. "She's not joking..." Hands cover the faces of the girls, and a couple of heads in the hands of the guys. Then there's Dean, he sits, with the same facial expression as myself – probably gently filtering what I've just said and pondering how he's going to respond.

"OK," Dean begins, his hands grazing around his stubble, near his chin. "If I say; John Cena, does that name flick any memories?" I just shake my head, his eyes turn to the others for help. That's when I know something is bad – when does Dean Ambrose require help from anyone? Nobody responds.

"You're scaring me!" I wince as I make an attempt to sit up.

"Not half as much as you're scaring us, Nicole," Natalya says, she's got a hold of my arms at this point – to ease the pain, whilst Naomi gathers some extra pillows from the chair at my bedside to put behind my back for support.

"What if we just ask her questions," begins Naomi. "She will answer them and then we'll know where the loop holes are, then we can tell her what's missing?" Everyone nods in agreement, _great more thinking_ – I say to myself.

"What's your name?" asks Heath. Everyone just stares in complete disgrace.

"Really? That's what you ask..." I say. "Nicole Garcia-Colace."

Just as others are about to pipe-up to contribute questions, a man walks in, dressed in a white coat. My suspicions tell me this must be Doctor James. When my eyes travel round for conformation, I spot his name tag on the right side of his jacket. _'Dr. P. James'_

"Ah, fantastic. You're awake," he says, as he comes strolling in like there is no care in the world, I instantly become annoyed at his careless nature – but then I realise this must just be the warm front he has to deliver to all of his patients, so that they don't sense panic. "I've got your results from your brain scan you had this morning."

"And?" I say. Brie nudges me. "Sorry," I mutter. "It's just I have no clue on what's going on, I don't even understand what the results are for..."

"Well before any of you panic, the results came through as positive. Meaning that you're in recovery. Your accident just resulted in organic causes, meaning there is no brain damage. No operations involved, you have slight amnesia but giving time to rest and to gather your memories, you'll be fine," he says.

"How is she supposed to get her memories back?" Brie asks.

"The amnesia may have tampered with your memories, this could be large-scale. The memories could include your important milestones, events, people and the vital facts you have been told or taught," he pauses. "To get them back...that depends on how severe the amnesia is, but as she only has traumatic amnesia – her memory loss is only temporarily. But I wouldn't force the memories, let them come on their own."

Many faces in the room drop slightly to relax, some good news. Panic has gone slightly, and smiles are arising from the surface of their lips. Mine on the other hand hasn't. The doctor gives the envelope to Dean, nods and walks out of the door swiftly.

"Well that was some good news!" says Dean, as he begins to get up from his seat, then tells us he has to make an urgent phone call. As he reaches the door, Slater asks 'Is it Rollins?' Whatever that means, I'm guessing he is referring to someone. Another who I've never heard of. Dean just nods and looks up at me, then leaves.

"Whose Rollins?" I ask the others, they just sit in silence. Was it a hard question to answer? "Well..."

"Just a friend of Dean's," Brie smiles, so I nod. Then Natalya changes the subject to shoes straight after, I ignore this. Wondering whether there is something suspicious going on hurts my head.


	2. Chapter 2 - Encounter

  
>AN – I just want to say the response from people on the first chapter was amazing. I have a lot of people favourite the story and two reviews; to me that's really amazing! I love to hear your thoughts on the story, it really drives me to write. With that said, I hope you like this chapter, I quite like it myself. Neth Bellins needs to happen, I honestly don't know why it hasn't yet, but whatever! Thank you all! (: 

After 10 minutes, Dean finally comes walking in again, his face seemed stressed; but then I thought that not being able to do dirty-deeds on someone for a couple of days would take it's toll. Nobody asks of his phone call, they just let him sit back down in his seat. Until Paige asks a question, which looks like it's been bothering her for a while.

"So when is John coming then?" she asks, everyone turns to look at her but she doesn't seem to worry. I think she was afraid to ask, but knew it's the question that everyone was thinking. "Well I was just wondering!" Speaking of which, nobody has even let me in on who this person is.

"Is anyone actually going to tell me who he is," I ask. They all don't know where to put their faces, and for once their all speechless – if anything; that's worrying.

"Your boyfriend, for one," Dean bluntly says, my face turns white. How is this possible, I know the doctor said I would forget certain things, but this...

"What?" I say, what else is there to say? "No, no – I don't understand. I wouldn't be able to forget about someone that special, right?" I question, but more like convincing myself.

"The doctor did say you would forget about important people, Nikki," says Heath, in the most sensitive way possible. That's when he notices the panic that's consumed my facial features; my eyes strike like a deer in the head lights, my mouth subconsciously opened slightly to inhale as much oxygen as possible so I don't pass out, whilst struck in utter shock.

"He did say that you'd get them back though!" Arianne quickly mentions, I can tell she's trying to make the situation seem less troublesome.

We discuss the subject further, I ask what is going to happen when he eventually comes to visit, how do I act, what do I say, does he know I can't remember a single memory we had together, whether my feelings will come back, will it be awkward – and the list goes on. They all answer the best they can, they also try to fill me in all the memories I've lost. Brie flicks through her phone to show me a couple of pictures she has of us together and explains what happened on that day, Nattie shows me a picture of the painting she created of me and John; she also mentions how we didn't like it. Which doesn't surprise me, I even told her then that it's not actually what I would put in the house and we all laugh – _at least something hasn't changed_, I think to myself. I ask when I would be out of this place, but unfortunately no news, you would think they would allow me to at least leave considering I'm perfectly "normal" - whatever that means. Brie and Dean go to collect some clothes from Brie's hotel room, as I didn't think it would make much difference if I wore a couple of her clothes – we are twins! Although, I have a feeling Brie's clothes will be a tight squeeze considering I've been training with weights for the past year or so. That's when Naomi tells me about how John got me into weight training, gaining muscle and being stronger in general. It feels like anything I mention, he's always there, which makes me realise my amnesia is a problem, not only for me, but for him. If he's a huge part of my life already, what is going to happen if I know longer feel what I used to have for him. I try to repeat his name in my head – _John, John Cena, John Felix Anthony Cena_ – nothing.

After about 20 minutes or so, Brie and Dean come strolling in laughing and pushing each other, no wonder why they've taken their time. I usher Brie over to the bed, excited to see what she's brought me. I rummage through the plastic bag to find some toiletries, underwear, socks, some black leggings and a baggy sweater and some UGG boots – nothing extravagant I see. I'm not surprise, I should have known I wasn't going to get some Louboutin's, Prada or anything fashionable. It's Brie, the save-the-world, hash-tag-green recycling freak, though I love her nonetheless.

I grab the bag of bits and pieces, make my way to the toilets across the hall, and begin to make some effort into my appearance. I turn the light on by the switch, then to make my way to the mirror. Horrified. My hair in knots, it's like it's been electrified...I put it down to stress, of course. My skin is as dry as a bone, eye brows are in serious need to be plucked, at least they've been washing my hair and everything else – but who forgets to moisturise, seriously? I make these issues change immediately; ex-foliating my face with a tea tree facial scrub, I should have guess it would be organic. Nevertheless, it does the job perfectly. Plus, I've never smelt so minty in my life, which makes me think I should take a leaf out of Brie's book. I brush my hair, which seems like it hasn't been touched with a ounce of conditioner for months, and do this as gentle as I possibly can. After about 5 long minutes, this task is done. Then I proceed to brush my teeth, pluck the stray hairs from my eyebrows, to then conclude with moisturising my skin thoroughly. Once I bung on my clothes, (surprisingly they fit like a glove) I make my way back to the others in room 205.

I place my hand on the doorknob, twist it with a little force and begin to open the door. That's when I hear a unfamiliar voice, it's not until I open the door to find two unfamiliar people. One man has enormous arms, he looks like he lives in the gym. He has very short hair, tall and wearing some black Jean-shorts, a white crew-neck t-shirt, which shows off his muscles nicely, and lastly some red and white Jordan's. The other, two-toned hair, just below shoulder length, with the left side blonde whilst the other is dark brown. He wears a black glamour kills tee, a black snap-back, a light grey blazer, black jeans, and black sneakers. They both greet me with a smile, which I kindly give back. I hover over to sit on the side of the bed, quietly taking my place whilst conversations take place.

_Who are these people? _I ask myself, I certainly have know idea who they are. Then it dawns on me, one of these men has to be John Cena, they all told me he was eventually going to come. Even Paige asked about him, but I got the impression they meant throughout the week. But then I noticed, all of them have their coats on, backs packed, the hospital bed looks like it's been made in my absence and the surfaces cleared and scrubbed cleaned whilst I've been gone. Am I going home?

"Nikki?" Brie asks, completely oblivious, I realise she's been trying to get my attention for a while. Stuck in my own thoughts, I forgot anyone was there. That's when I laugh at myself, thinking it's because of all the amnesia, but everyone other than the guy with the two-toned hair smiles. I probably worried them all, they must all think I'm crazy.

"Yes," I say, rather excitedly. But I put it down to going home.

"Meet John Cena," she starts, and stretches her arm out to where he's sat. The Jean-shorts guy, that's my boyfriend, though a part of me isn't surprised – besides, he did get me into weight training! "And this is Seth Rollins, Mr. Money In The Bank himself." I just smile, my heart is beating at god-knows what, I don't know the drill. Do I hug John, kiss him on the cheek and pretend like everything is normal? Though to me he's just a stranger.

"How are you feeling, Nicole?" John asks, as he makes his way from his chair to me on the bed. As I'm about to answer, he takes my hand in his. I just half-heartedly smile, though Arianne is mimicking my expression behind John – I realise how petrified I look, so I manage to fake a sincere one.

"Well, physically I'm A-Okay," I try to come across perfectly fine, until Seth is offering a question.

"What about mentally?" he wonders, as he offers a worrying-some look; whilst he props his hair back into a tight bun at the back of his head.

"She's forgotten a lot," Paige comes to my rescue.

"In other words, she doesn't know who you are," Dean cuts the tension with a knife, a blunt one in that. His sudden slice to the heart seems to have gotten to John, he lifts his hand to stroke the side of my face; and to guide the other lose hairs behind my ear. On the other hand, Seth is just sitting there in his own thoughts, looking out of the window, which makes me wonder what's so interesting out there.

"When can I go home?" I cut in, all this negativity adds to how nervous I am. "Where ever that is," I mutter. But it seems like everyone heard.

"I think it's better if you come home with me," Brie begins. "Daniel won't mind, he's already making up the spare bedroom for you in case you were to come back with me." _That's nice of him_, I think. Thank god I haven't forgotten him, he's family now. I just nod. I feel a prang of guilt when I realise how hard with must be for John, to come and visit a girlfriend that has no idea of who you are, and how she feels – and to make matter worse, he's found out his girlfriend will no longer live in the same building as him. I'm guessing we lived together.

Something inside me changes my mind, "Actually..." I begin. I realise that in order to get my memories back I'm going to have to live life as normal, and it's not like I'm not in safe hands. And what I've heard from the others – John and I had a perfect life. I shouldn't let some amnesia that's not going to last a week stop me from continuing my life as normal. Besides, if it didn't feel right living with John again, I could always go to Brie's, and it's not like their banned from visiting. "I'll go back with John." His eyes lit up like two giant saucers, "Well, we'll be in separate beds for obvious reasons." He just nods, understanding of my particular predicament.

"I'll have some media to do in the mornings, but I can get someone to drop by that looks after the house to watch over you, in case you need something," said John, and looked around the room, probably searching for volunteers. Nobody said anything, but I'm sure John will figure something out. I give a smile, like it's the best day in the world – oh the contrary.

"Well I'm all packed and ready to go," I say, whilst holding my bags up high. John takes them out of my hand, which makes me uneasy. When he takes them, it's like everything is confirmed, and now I have no way to escape. I mentally hit myself at this point, thinking how ridiculous I must sound – it's not like I've been taken without consent, plus it was my idea. Suddenly, John passes couple of the bags to Seth whose standing up at this point, he just smiles. _Does Seth live with John?_ I'm confused. John picks up the confusion on my face, panics, he quickly tells me that Seth kindly drove him to the hospital as Dean called him earlier and mentions that Seth was in his direction, anyway. I realise how stupid I must look jumping to conclusions, _stop being so irrational, Nicole! _

"Oh," I chuckle embarrassingly. My cheeks burns into a slight pink, and my palms to begin to sweat. Maybe this is a bad idea...

"Don't worry we're not planning to jump you in the car," Seth winks, and slots his hat back on his head. How does he know what I'm thinking? _'Don't worry'_ – yet he manages to read my mind effortlessly. John turns to look at him, as do everyone else. Now I'm put on the spot to respond.

"I wasn't thinking that!" I blurt out, my voice groans with an ounce of defence. Now I sound guilty. Brilliant.

After 5 minutes, the conversation seems to close. John mentions how he has a press conference at 3, but notifies me that the maid will be there. Apparently she knows exactly what I like. I beg to differ. The idea of having a random person watch over me all day seems extreme, it's not like having someone you know of. Then Natalya offers to come stay, but I lie and tell her I'll be fine. I say my goodbyes, and Brie tells me that I can call at any time; which makes me feel relieved. Seth drives us back home, and helps John with my items, whilst I stand outside going over every little detail of the front garden in case it all-of-a-sudden infuses some old memories – sadly this gets disturbed when I hear the half blonde bomb-shell approach me. Who knew footsteps could be that loud!

"See ya later, kid," Seth nods, so I smile whilst he begins to get in his car. "You're in good hands!" I look at him with a muddled look. He just laughs and says "Your maid makes the best ham sandwiches," he utters, which makes me wonder how he knows this. But, the comment still makes a smile creep up on my lips, infectiously. Who says that to someone?

All I can say is, "I'll be sure to try one," I lie. I hate the stuff. Seth looks at me with a quizzical look, mischievousness glimmers in his eyes as he starts his car.

"I'm sure you will," he begins. "Too bad you hate ham," and that's when he drives off. I'm stood bewildered,_ who is this guy?_ I question, and how the hell does he know I dislike ham?

I watch him drive off, unaware that I'm graced with a smirk.


	3. Chapter 3 - Before Present

A/N: **Thank you all for the favouring and the following, it's really great. I've been a little busy, I planned to make a new chapter a couple of days ago, but you know what coursework is like. Any-who, I had a early day, so I thought why not give some time up and start a new chapter. I'm planning on typing up a new one straight after, so that I can be a bit more frequent. I know the urge in reading! (: **❤

The next day I'm waking up, half delusional and believing I've thought up some barmy nonsensical fantasy, crossed by a nightmare. Only to realise when I've got the postman waking me up at god-knows and telling me I've got to sign these agreement forms on cohabitation. First of all, though I'm "not with it" so to speak, I'm at least 99.9% sure that I'm not supposed to be signing that agreement. Surely I would have been told something like this? Or John would have told me, but nothing. Instead, I'm left in the lurch, without no clue of who I should talk to, or who I trust, where I can go, what my routine is, whether I should wash-up or leave it to the maid – so many questions are left unknown and I'm tempted in making a: 'Nikki Bella, this-is-the-survival-pack-or-all-survival-packs-when-needing-to-remember-your-sex-life, home-life, work-life, and-all-life-in-general.' _Breathe_.

But first where do I start? _I could always start on the tour around the house? _My thought triggers me. "Good idea, Nicole." I say aloud, thanking myself for the amazing idea. That way I could find the missing pieces (in this case grey-cells) to my puzzle (brain). I could crack the code without John finding out, I could cure myself. I could star in the Guinness Book Of Records 2015 addition of; how to recover from traumatic amnesia in three days. Could I do it? Even so, I could start a new entry or something – it'll be like Kharma going into the Rumble first entry, and killing it down the ramp. But only difference would be that I would win it and go on to Wrestlemania. But maybe I need a back up plan in case that doesn't work...

I leave my thoughts to where they were, so I can go back to it later. I wouldn't want to over-do myself. As I walk up the stairs that are situated at the entrance of the house, the thought of how much this place must have cost triggers me. I bet it was expensive, and I don't need my memory to know that I didn't help pay for this. I reach the top of the stairs and contemplate on where to start. _If I were to remember my lost memories, where would I start? _Bedroom? Surely there must be plenty of memories in there; that could set off some recollection of different events! I make my way through the door, and there is pictures of John and I on the dressing table in some fancy silver plated frame, that brightens when the sun escapes the blinds. It's us at Brie and Daniels wedding. I'm wearing a long white dress which thankfully shapes my newly curves nicely. On my side there is a picture of Brie and I on the beach – I'm certain that's the time when we went off to California for the weekend, just the two of us, for what reason I'm not sure of. I'm sure it's all flood back when I do some more snooping. As I'm raiding the draws, looking for all the clues to my lost memories, there is a heavy hand knocking on the door. My first thought was that it would be the postman; forgetting that he had some more mail. Possibly? But as I peer out of the bedroom window, I notice a tall-ish man. I can't see much, but this could be important, so I quickly rush down the stairs to catch him in time. As I reach for the door, I catch my left arm on a hook on the wall – brilliant. _Shit, _now my arm is drawing blood.

"_Give me a second,"_ I shout, making sure that the man doesn't walk away. "Just stay there!" I say, then hover into the kitchen looking for a plaster or something. I fling open as many cupboard doors so that I can take in the contents in everyone all at once, believing I'll be able to remember which draw/cupboard is for what. _Finally_, a pack of plasters are almost screaming at me, whilst my arm is stinging back. I quickly fling my arm over the sink and drench it in cold water to attempt at numbing the pain. Then pat dry and carefully place the plaster onto the sore area. As I turn around, suddenly a body is standing in the door way of the kitchen, leaning onto the nearest wall which makes my jump out of my skin.

"What the fu-" I stopped myself, realising who it was. The two-toned man from yesterday, the weirdo that probably watches me eat or something. Still baffled as to how he would know I hate ham, but I just brush the thought off and stare at him holding my plaster firmly on my arm. "What are you doing in my house?" I curtly mention. I'm pretty sure I locked the door. Did I lock the door?

"Did you lock the door?" He comments, whilst searching for something in his pocket. He looks completely sure of himself, cocky git.

He can sense I'm thinking to myself whether I can remember, probably lapping it all up.

"Chill, I have my own set of keys," he smiles. Own set of keys? Who gives another regular guy a set of keys, what does he live here too or something? Does the whole roster... _I hope not_.

"Right," I say with a quizzical tone to my voice, which he picks up on. "Well, what are you doing with your own set of keys? Did you get your on cut?" _I wonder whether John even knows he has a set?_ I think.

"Whoa, before you jump to conclusions – John gave me this set yesterday. He knew nobody would be in and asked whether I would check up on you-"

"Why?"

"Why wouldn't John want me too?" He laughs, probably at me. I roll my eyes, as he approaches me.

"No. Smart-ass, why would he think I needed checking up on?" I say as I sit on one of the kitchen stools. "I'm not doing anything..."

"Probably for the reason that you have traumatic amnesia?" Seth is laughing again, _stop laughing_. My cheeks are glowing a shade of red.

"I don't need you to baby-sit me. So you can just leave," I begin to get up from my place to the front door, but he just stands there completely agog. "Well, are you going to move?"

"Look, John asked me to do a simple task and I'm afraid – what John says, goes." He moves his way into the living area. He's now putting his feet up on my sofa, _who does he think he is?_

"Who do you think you are?" I recall my thoughts aloud. "What are you doing? You're suppose to be going home."

Suddenly, the television is blaring and day-time television blasts into the room. I take a huge exhale, believing I can keep calm, but just watching him with his feet up on the sofa whilst taking a couple of sweets from the coffee table makes me so angry. Who invites themselves into your own home? It's so obnoxiously rude.

"I know what you're thinking, but I'm actually very polite," he winks. Ugh, please just leave. Stop reading my friggen mind! I close my eyes for a second, blocking out his negativity. _Take me to a happy place, take me to a happy place _– I'm wishing. I open my eyes and he's tapping on to his phone. "Hi, can I order a piz-" I run grabbed the phone off him and ended the call, but I loose my footing and landed on top of him. No pizza, no laying on the sofa, no keys, no-no-no. Nothing. "What are you-"

"Y-you can't just order yourself food, leaving me to clear it up later on whilst you get off home..." I grunt, whilst pushing myself off of him and standing up in front of him. "It's so obnoxious-"

"Xiously rude...I got it, Nicole." How did he? What _the fuck_ is happening, is he playing me around, is this some prank? I'm peering around, checking for TMZ secret cameras, but I can't see anything.

"Stop doing that-" I push his legs off the sofa, and plonk myself down next to him. "And it's rude to have your feet up when you're visiting." I brush my hair out of my face, angrily.

"I haven't heard you complain before," he smirks. OK, I'm through with this torment. Instead, I just slap him aggressively on the arm, which makes him wince for a second.. Then it hits me..._before?_

**Hope you all enjoyed. I have a plan on where this is going and it only gets better! Twists, twists and more romantic twists. #NethBellins. I promise the next one will be longer! Reviews are welcome and appreciated, v dearly. **❤


	4. Chapter 4 - Desolate

His comment, I simply pretended like it was banter or some lame joke. I know there must be something behind it, and I'm not sure whether I like that idea, or want to explore it further. "_I haven't heard you complain before"_, runs constantly, which is awkward when he's talking to me and waits for my answer; I have to ask again. He must think I've got a hearing issue, now it's the tenth time.

After the incident on the sofa, when he spilled the beans (slightly) – I changed the subject and it worked. We started talking about work, well he did mostly. He was informing me about the whole company at the moment, telling me the "dos and don'ts" of it all and the main gossip around. He's actually pretty useful when he's not playing up like a winged kid. I asked him about when he got into wrestling, and he was telling me his time in many wrestling organisations, the one he spoke most about was ROH. His hard work, determination and above all – self belief intrigued me mostly. That's when the conversation of FCW arose, he spoke about how hard he found it, knowing he had the technique and ability to further into the rankings, to then be told he's not ready caused a chip on his shoulder. I told him about Brie and me, about how she was chosen to debut first and I was to wait, but my job would be under the ring to do our "twin magic" move. Seth would express how fond he was of my sister, which confused me slightly – _does he like Brie?_ Would drill into my head. I asked him about that and he said how she was a good ear for frustrations, so I left it at that. His personal issues are best to be closed.

After we had a long 40 minute chat about our lives at the company, he coaxed me into the idea of pizza and promised he would help clear up later on, to which I agreed. We bickered on what I wanted to order, and he immediately suggested the margarita. He was doing the reading-my-mind thing again, it was like a spell of deja-vu reaped over me as if this moment happened _before_, but couldn't quite pin-point it.

My mind instantly flashed at that point, _"I haven't heard you complain_ b_efore" - _maybe we've had pizza before, as friends or something. Yes, friends. He seems **friendly**...

Once we had pizza, and rested for a while, I told him about my idea in getting my memories back. I told him that my plan was to search around the house for mementos or anything that could be of great value for my memories. He grinned slightly, and I gave him a death stare as to say, 'stop taking the piss'. Seth offered to help me, and I agreed. There wasn't much he would be doing that would be important now – besides it was either helping me or be bored downstairs. He took the option to help me, probably because he finds my antics amusing, but this is a serious deal.

"What about this box?" Seth passes a box from under the bed, we have already been through photos and he explained as best as he could (for someone with no clue) on my life with John. Seth begins to look into the box, "Looks like it's for storing keepsakes?"

Keepsakes?

"Let me look," I say, as I grab hold of the cardboard sides so I can have a proper look inside. "Just some old phones and letters..." I grab a hold of one letter that's crinkled at the bottom. "Dear Nicole-"

Seth's eyes freeze, "It's probably not important-"

"How are you enjoying your newly found cohabiting lifestyle?" What? Confusion fills my face up to the brink. Seth notices this and snatches the letter away from my hands. "Seth..." I say in annoyance, "I was reading that – it could be helpful!"

"It's pretty silly, this. I mean, one letter can't return all of your life's memories," he says, as he's about to rip it up, to which I quickly retrieve it back. "Nicole-"

"Nicole?" I question, only my relatives and closest friends call me Nicole. I put the letter behind my back for safety.

"What?" Seth laughs, as if I've gone crackers. "Have you miraculously changed your name since you've gone AWOL?" What a dick, I have not gone crazy, and I've not changed my name. I'm not that irresponsible.

"Nobody calls me Nicole, only closest friends and family..." I give him a questioning look, I'm sure he's sensed this now. He just stands there over the bed, and sits down putting his hands in his hair in frustration – but what's so frustrating? I'm about to apologise when he finally speaks.

He exhales, "I guess it's out of habit. When John talks about you, he always calls you Nicole."

I let it lie, knowing that I have no proof that he's lying. Instead, without Seth looking I put the letter in one of my draws, then proceed in looking through the box. Seth finds a photo album and we look through it, and find ourselves laughing at the photos. There is one of Brie and I on the beach pulling weird faces after a photo-shoot for Summerslam. Underneath that one if a picture of me laying on the floor being trampled by her cats, whilst Tyson is laughing in the background. Many pictures of the album are ones of the Divas and Superstars going out on the town, one of Brie and I with Maryse and Punk. There's ones with Sheamus, Drew McIntyre, Eve Torres, Jack Swagger and the list goes on and on. So many memories have gone by on the pages, page-by-page-by-page, and I've only gone and forgotten some of the best ones. Of course I remember the people in the photos, but some of the memories are a little hazey in a few, but I'm hoping they will come back soon.

Just as I'm about to turn to the last couple of pages, I see a small squared photo which looks like you can get from those booths city centres and supermarkets, stuck in on of the plastic slits. Seth offers to hold the book as I wiggle my small hands to retrieve it out. My eyes hover over the little image and it's me, but I realise sitting next to me is a two-tone blonde and brown haired man – with a designer esque beard, wearing a plain white tee and a black cap. He's got his arm around me, and we're smiling. Genuinely smiling, happy. I look over at Seth, his face just falls and takes hold of the picture. He looks almost sad, like he's just got told some bad news. _I haven't heard you complain before_ – comes back into my head and I realise that he wasn't trying to have banter with me, or torment me, he was hinting to something else.

"What's this?" I finally ask him, I don't dare look at him in case the atmosphere turns awkward. So I just stare at the picture like I've lapped eyes on it for the first time, analysing all it's trying to tell me in the picture. Seth sits there almost transfixed on the thing, like he also has seen it for the first time, and that's when I realise something has hit him real hard; and it's my job to make sure he's OK. "Seth?"

He snaps out of the daze and glances over at me, looking through my eyes like he's searching for something, I just stare back. His face turns into a disappointed one, and I fathom out that I'm not giving him the response he wants. I playfully nudge him on the arm, trying to push himself to answer. "It's just a photo-" he pauses, not knowing what else to say. I know he's lying, as he won't even look at me.

"Are we friends?" I question, feeling a little guilty that I've been treating him like a brat; after all the attempts he's made to be nice to me. If we're friends then he must be taking this news hard, the fact that I can't remember who he is, out memories. I imagine myself as him, trying to get back an old friend who can't remember me, and my stomach sinks down to what feels like my gut churning. He looks at me with his brown eyes, and I put a hand on his shoulder feeling remorseful.

"Something like that," he says, as he shuts the book and holds onto the photo.

"You can keep it,-" I begin. "Only if you want it," I smile at him. He half smiles back at me, his eyes gleaming slightly to which I question whether their filling up with tears. He notices my contemplation and blinks and clears his throat with a deep cough.

"Well." He stands up, passes me the photo and rearranges himself. "I best be going, got a early start tomorrow morning, with all the interviews. You know how it is..."

I'm flabbergasted as to how he manages to keep a brave face and completely ignore my offer. Not that I'm angry, but more confused. It's like he's hiding something from me, or that I've made him feel uncomfortable. Maybe we were friends, and I broke up our friendship. Maybe it was my fault we don't talk, and he's upset because I've brought it up again. My instincts tell me to press on with the conversation before he leaves, but my sympathy for him tells me not too – and I'm at a crossroads.

We clear a couple of the things up, and put the box under the bed. So much for getting my memories back, if anything I'm more confused now from when we started. Seth grabs him coat from the bed and we make our way downstairs. Feeling bad about our past, which I still believe must be my fault – I ask him whether he would like to have a drink before he goes. My attempt to keep the peace or make amends. He just shakes his head, and I realise how much of a idiot I must look. I want to apologise again, say how sorry I am for whatever it is I've done. I want to ask him what I've done, and is there a way that I can make it up to him. But I know that what was in the past is meant to be left in the past, and I think he realises that too. His eyes hover over from the door to the kitchen sink, his eyes peer back at mine, and I already know that he's trying to apologise for not going through what he promised.

"It's fine, you go-" I smile. He smiles back, turns around and opens the door. I hold the edge of the door open as he walks out. I stand outside in the drive way, when he turns around to me.

"Call me if you need anything," he says, as he rubs the back of his neck. He then playfully nudges my nose, in a punching motion making me swipe his hand out of the way as he laughs. "I'll see you," he walks towards his car as I walk towards now a empty house. It's not until I reach the door, that I feel empty also.


	5. Chapter 5 - Hidden Code

After Seth goes, I get a call from John. Tells me that he's nearly home and is there anything I want, so I say no. If there was one thing I wanted right now, it would be my memories. If I had them I could apologise to Seth for being a dick, and my feelings for John would return and we would be a proper couple – like before this. As I end the call from John, I search through my inbox and there is a message that I've missed from Rosa Mendes.

"**Hey, Niks! Thanks for the invitation, Primo and I are excited for tomorrow night. Luv ya. X**"

Tomorrow night? What? Suddenly all these other texts are coming through from Brie, Nattie, Ari and Naomi, and a few other Superstars and Divas.

"**Canny wait for tomorrow night, gon b hilarious! Thanks hun, me and Vin are excited to come and see you! oxo**"

"**Me and John will be a little late, but Jay will be at yours before us. Luv Naomi, oh and how are you doing? X x **"

How am I doing? Completely fine, before now. I'm I allowed to be confused with my amnesia? Maybe they're all fobbing me off, they know I have no idea what I remember and now they're pretending that I've organised something when I haven't just to get some free booze. I applaud them for their efforts.

"**John, half of the locker-room believe they're all coming round tomorrow night! What do I say?**" I text him panicking of what to do. I wait for his text, whilst many others come through and I'm looking through them hoping that one of them will be John, so that I can get out of this mess and turn my phone off away from this fiasco.

Suddenly, John's text comes through and I immediately feel a sense of relief. I tap on to the message, and read on. My eyes grow wider as I read:

"**Babe, don't worry. I invited them all, thought they should see you. Cindy will cook the meal (maid), it'll be a good catch up. See you in 10. x**"

He arranged something without my permission? Fantastic. Utterly fabulous. Now I have to cater like half of the Diva's locker-room. I've only just came out of hospital, I swear the doctor told me to rest...

Contemplating on what to do next, I crouch down to the book shelf in the living room near the grand fire-place. There are loads of different genres, so I pick one at random – 'To be Wed'. The cover has a woman and a man on the front holding hands, so it gives me the inspiration I need to get John and mines relationship back on the right track. I switch the light on and set it on dim whilst playing some music in the background, on low volume. After half an hour, I've found out that the girl, Sophie, is going to marry a jerk, whilst her lover, Tom, is trying to stop the wedding. Looks like it wasn't a great book for inspiration for John and I after all.

_Ding dong_, the door bell goes off and John walks right through the door. I focus on being romantic, like a proper girlfriend. I scan John's face for any frustration, in case I make him more angry. But I find nothing, which indicates my next moves. I walk right behind him and wrap my arms around his muscular body. He nudges me off whilst setting the bags on the counter. "Sorry, I'm a little tied up, babe."Brilliant. That didn't go to plan at all.

OK, no worries. I'll just think of something else.

"So I can cook dinner, or something?" I walk over the the plastic bags and have a rummage through. "I could do pasta or..."

John walks up to me, snatches the bag and finishes putting the things away. "No, we normally go out for dinner," he says, whilst slamming on of the cupboard doors shut, which makes me jump. He's briskly hurrying up, which feels like he's busy and wants to be rid of me already. I could have gone to Brie's if it was really such a problem.

"Well, what about a movie?" I ask, "We could sit and snuggle up together, there are loads in the cupboard..." I smile, trying my hardest to try and make this relationship work. I know we need a little more time, but I guess we need to get the ball rolling whilst it can.

"I'm tired, I might head off to bed-" Before I can reply, John comes up to me and kisses my forehead. We still haven't cross paths in actually kissing yet. He probably feels I'm not ready, and besides it's not that I really remember our relationship or who he is. Still, I make a note of that in my head for what needs to be completed on my mental notes for: How to get my relationship back on track...

John leaves me, remote in hand. I just throw it on the couch in defeat. Not only is my relationship with John on hold, but I have god-knows how many people visiting tomorrow and I can't show them how wonderful my life is yet.

_Buzz. Buzz_.

What is it now? I mentally scream out at my phone, when I realise it's Seth.

"**So I hear that you're having some big gathering tomorrow night?**"

"**Unbeknown to me, yes.**"

"**You didn't know?**"

"**John organised it, didn't even mention it...**"

"**Are you looking forward to it?**"

I smirk at this, I can't let him know I'm not pleased with these arrangements. In order to make everyone believe myself and John are brilliant, I have to tell a couple white-lies. What people don't know, won't kill them.

"**I'm really excited to see everyone!**"

"**Don't lie, ;)**"

His message makes me smile.

"**How do you know I'm lying? ;)**"

"**I know everything about you...**"

My heart stops, and my stomach flutters around with butterflies. I must stop myself before going too far, I must put one foot forward and concentrate on making something of my mere-exist relationship. But my fingers uncontrollably are already typing onto the screen.

"**Prove it.**"

Before I know any different, I realise that I've already sent it. My eyes widen in horror now that I've challenged him to prove that he knows me as much as he says he does.

"**I know you've got a faint birthmark on the inside of your right thigh.**"

My heart jumps, how does he know that? I never tell anyone that.

"**How do you know that?"**

He doesn't reply for 5 minutes, and that's when I become nervous. I know I shouldn't have asked how does he know that, it only makes everything ten times as harder for us to become friends. My rational thoughts tell me that I've probably told him, because everyone that knows of this, knows that I hate it there. Not that you can see it clearly, but because it's in a shape of a hexagon or something. It just doesn't look natural. Finally another _buzz_ comes through, and my heart skips a beat and my fingers tingle over the screen. I hesitate in opening 'messages', but realise that I need to stop flustering. Seth knows I'm with John, I know I'm with John. We're all adults here, _stop being so stupid, Nicole!_

"**Because...I've seen it...**"

OK, _I'm sorry_ – I think to myself, as I apologise to me personally. I'm not stupid, Seth knows I'm with John, he knows. I know. We all know, but he doesn't seem to mind. I thought we were friends? I thought I broke our friendship up, I thought I had everything under control. Now, not only do I have to sort things out with John, but now my mission is to uncover the truth between Seth and I.


End file.
